
[ROBERT lOmS 



STEVENSON 

^ 



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LIBRARY of CONGRESS 


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1909 


OopyrtKnt EIntry 


aASS 


XXc. No. 


COPY 


a. 



V. 



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H^ 



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Copyright, 1908 

BY 

A. FLANAGAN COMPANY 



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INTRODUCTION 

Almost any day in the winter of 1880-81 there might have 
been seen crouched upon the attic floor of a certain chalet in 
the little Swiss town of Davos, a boy of perhaps twelve years 
of age and a man of thirty, playing with an army of tin 
soldiers ! The attic was cold and poorly lighted and in places 
the eaves were so low that the two could not stand upright, but 
so absorbing was their occupation that neither had a thought 
for these discomforts. On the board floor a map was roughly 
drawn in colored crayons, on which were indicated mountains 
and rivers, towns, roads, and bridges, and the tin soldiers were 
marched here and there in a fascinating game that sometimes 
lasted for several weeks at a time, and which with the players 
went by the name of war. The man — or, rather, the elder boy, 
for he never quite grew up — was Robert Louis Stevenson, and 
the absorl:)iug game was his invention, its object the entertain- 
ment of his companion and stepson, Lloyd Osbourne. 

It is Mr. Osbourne himself who gives us this charming 
picture of boyhood days long past, when the Stevensons, for 
health's sake, had made their winter home in the little house in 
the mountains. He tells us, too, of the w^ork with the toy 
press, on which were printed reports of the battles fought in 
the attic, as well as various periodicals of which he was the 
editor and publisher, while his playmate-father, in spite of his 
burden of ill health and the pressure of real work, was a regu- 
lar contributor as writer and artist. From him, also, we learn 
of plays performed in a miniature theater which were as keenly 
enjoyed by the elder as by the younger of the comrades ; for 

[5] 



INTRODUCTION 

whatever Louis Stevenson gave himself to, it was always his 
whole self that he gave. 

Small wonder is it that this man — who to the last of his 
days retained that enthusiasm which made him as a child throw 
himself into his games in ''a very passion of play" — could write 
for children in the spirit of a child. In him the power to reveal 
his personality in his writings was combined with that of 
recalling at any time sensations once experienced. And thus 
in the simple verses of his Garden we have a true picture of 
the frail, brown-eyed little boy whose restless nights faithful 
Cummie soothed ; so many of whose days were spent in the 
Land of Counterpane, the pleasant aspect of which he was yet 
able to see; whose happiest hours were passed in the dear, 
delightful garden at Colinton — that "enchanted ground" where 
his vivid imagination ran riot. 

While the quaint conceits and the deep philosophy of some 
of these poems of childhood are beyond the power of children 
to appreciate, the thoughts in the lines are children's thoughts 
and the point of view that of a child, and few are the childish 
readers who will not be captivated by their charm. And since 
an acquaintance with this man's work means an abiding joy in 
him that grows with familiarity, the teacher or parent who 
leads a child to form the acquaintance renders a service that is 
indeed worth while. 



[6] 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 

Even lacking the luster shed upon it by one of the foremost writers 
of the nineteenth century, the name of Stevenson would have been of 
note, for before that writer's birth two generations of his family which 
bore it, had achieved a worldwide reputation as engineers. 

Eobert Stevenson, the first of these, has gone down into history as 
builder of the Bell Rock beacon, though that famous tower was only 
one of many noble works — including lighthouses, bridges, and roads 
— designed and executed by him in the fifty years he served as chief 
engineer to the Scottish lighthouse board. 

Of Robert Stevenson's thirteen children three sons embraced their 
father's profession and ably carried on his work, and the youngest of 
these, Thomas, is known as an authority on engineering, as well as 
the father of a remarkable son. Among the professional labors for 
which he and his brothers are known were the building of Skerryvore 
and other lighthouses, and the improvement of many harbors and 
rivers. He contributed much to the science of lighthouse illumina- 
tion, bringing to perfection the revolving light. A sketch of him has 
been given us by his son in "Memories and Portraits," where we read: 

"He was a man of a somewhat antique strain: with a blended 
sternness and softness that was wholly Scottish . . . ; with a profound 
essential melancholy of disposition and (what often accompanies it) 
the most humourous geniality in company; shrewd and childish; pas- 
sionately attached, passionately prejudiced; a man of many extremes. 
. . . His talk, compounded of so much sterling sense, and so much 
freakish humour, and clothed in language so apt, droll, and emphatic, 
was a perpetual delight to all who knew him. . . . His use of lan- 
guage was both just and picturesque." 

In a study of Robert Louis Stevenson we find that nearly all of 
the qualities here ascribed to the father were reproduced in the son. 

[7] 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 

Thomas Stevenson married a daughter of the Rev. Dr. Lewis 
Balfour, of whom there is a picture in "The Manse," an essay in 
"Memories and Portraits" descriptive of his home, about five miles 
from Edinburgh. Mrs. Stevenson was a woman of more than ordi- 
nary intellectual gifts — beautiful in character and person. From her, 
her son inherited much of that charm of manner that attracted all who 
met him, and from her, too, came certain weaknesses of constitution 
which in him developed later into chronic ill health. 

This son was born November 13, 1850, in Edinburgh, which was 
his home, practically, for thirty years. He was christened Robert 
Lewis Balfour Stevenson, a name which combined those of his two 
grandfathers. Before he was of age he dropped the Balfour and 
changed his second name (by which he was called by his family and 
friends) in spelling, though not in pronunciation. 

He was an only child and very frail, and had it not been for his 
faithful nurse, Alison Cunningham, the days in his Edinburgh home, 
so many of which were spent indoors, would have been very lonely 
ones. His mother, though devoted to him, was, herself, delicate 
during his childhood, and could not have him with her as much as 
she would have liked. She was able, however, to read to him a great 
deal, and by her he was taught to love the best in literature. His 
father was a busy man, though ever ready when at home to entertain 
the boy with thrilling tales of his own invention — for Thomas Steven- 
son was in no small measure responsible for his son's love of romance. 

But there were times when life was very full of joy for this child, 
whose sweetness of disposition and vividness of imagination alike 
were remarkable. His mother had been one of thirteen children, and 
the old manse was always full of cousins. There, in the summer 
especially, were spent golden days, the brightness of which is reflected 
in the "Garden of Verses," "Child's Play," "Random Memories," 
"A Penny Plain and Twopence Colored," and "A Chapter on 
Dreams." 

Louis's schooling was irregular, beginning later than that of the 

[8] 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 

average child and repeatedly interrupted by illness and journeys from 
home with his parents. Even the formal studies of his course at 
Edinburgh University played less part in his education than the read- 
ing which he did for the love of it and his studies and travels in 
later life. 

It was Thomas Stevenson's wish that his son should become an 
engineer, but though there were aspects of his father's work that 
Louis liked, especially that part of it which kept him out-of-doors, he 
felt that the only profession into which he could put his best effort 
was that of letters. His father looked upon literature as a pastime 
rather than a real profession, and he agreed to his son's giving up 
engineering only upon condition that he study law. At the age of 
twenty-five years Stevenson was called to the bar, but he never actually 
practised, and it soon became apparent to even his father that the nat- 
ural career for his son was that of a writer. 

For two years past Stevenson hr.d been writing for publication 
(for he had been writing for practice from boyhood) and had contrib- 
uted articles to various well-known English magazines. His first book 
was '*An Inland Yoyage," the account of a canoe trip through Bel- 
gium which he made with a friend in the spring of 1876. That 
autumn he made the excursion described in "Travels with a Donkey." 
His first published stories appeared in the following winter. 

From this time on for several years he spent much of his time on 
the Continent, finding the climate of Edinburgh, especially in the 
winter, exceedingly trying. In France he met his future wife, Mrs. 
Osbourne, whose home was in California and who was the cause of his 
first visit to America. In 1880 he was married, in California, and as 
neither he nor his wife was in good health, they, with Mrs. Stevenson's 
son, Lloyd Osbourne, spent several months camping in the mountains 
of the Pacific coast. Their experiences are told in "The Silverado 
Squatters." 

Stevenson with his wife and stepson now returned to Edinburgh, 
but it was not long before he was driven forth again in search of 

[9] 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 

health. This search continued for eight years. In spite of being 
virtually an invalid Stevenson did much of his best work in this 
period; to it belong among many others, "Treasure Island," "A 
Child's Garden of Verses," "Prince Otto," "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. 
Hyde," "Kidnapped," and several plays. 

In 1887 Thomas Stevenson died, and soon after his death his son 
left Scotland forever, accompanied by his wife, his mother, and his 
stepson. The physicians had advised a more radical change of climate 
and life than was possible to the author in Europe, and he had deter- 
mined again to try America. 

The winter was passed in the Adirondacks, and no more charming 
reading can be found than Mrs. Thomas Stevenson's account of the 
experiences of the family there and during the yacht cruise on the 
Pacific whicn followed. In the next two years the Stevensons spent 
most of their time cruising among the South Sea Islands, in the end 
deciding to make their home in Samoa. 

At Apia Stevenson bought the property which he named Yailima 
(Five Kivers), and here, "farmering" and writing, in better health 
than he had ever known, he lived for four happy years, surrounded 
by those dearest to him, and beloved by the Samoans, whose interests 
he had ever at heart. In 1894 he died sudder.ly, in the midst of liter- 
ary activity and happy work on his estate, and his native friends cut 
a road through the forest and carried his body to the top of the moun- 
tain behind Apia. Here they buried him according to a wish he had 
once expressed and on his tomb they placed these words from his 
"Requiem," 

Here he lies where he longed to be; 
Home is the sailor, home from sea; 
And the hunter home from the hill. 



[ 10 




To Alison Cunningham 15 

To Any Reader 17 

To My Mother 19 

Fairy Bread 20 

Whole Duty of Children 21 

A Thought 22 

Happy Thought 23 

Looking Forward 24 

Time to Rise 25 

The Sun's Travels • . . 26 

System 27 

At the Seaside .28 

To Auntie 29 

Auntie's Skirts 30 

Rain 31 

Singing 32 

The Swing 33 

A Good Boy 34 

Good and Bad Children 36 

[11] 



contents 

The Unseen Playmate 38 

My Shadow 40 

My Treasuees 42 

My Kingdom 44 

Block City 46 

The Hayloft 48 

Nest Eggs 50 

Autumn Fires 53 

The Flowers 54 

The Gardener 56 

The Cow 58 

Farewell to the Farm 60 

Marching Song . 62 

A Good Play 63 

Bed in Summer 64 

My Bed Is a Boat . 65 

The Land of Nod 67 

Young Night Thought 68 

The Lamplighter 69 

Escape at Bedtime . 71 

The Moon 73 

Summer Sun 74 

The Wind 76 

Windy Nights 78 

Armies in the Fire 79 

PiCTURE-BoOKS IN WiNTER 81 

Winter-Time 82 

The Land of Story- Books 86 

Keepsake Mill 88 

Foreign Lands 90 

[12] 



contents 

Looking-Glass River 94 

Foreign Children 95 

The Land of Counterpane 97 

My Ship and I 98 

Where Go the Boats? 100 

Pirate Story 101 

Historical Associations 103 

From a Railway Carriage 105 

Travel . , 107 

The Little Land 110 

The Dumb Soldier 115 

Night and Day 117 

Northwest Passage — 

I Good-Night . 120 

II Shadow March 121 

III In Port 122 

APPENDIX 

Vocabulary 125 

Explanatory Notes 131 



[13] 



TO ALISON CUNNINGHAM 

FROM HER BOY 

For the long nights you lay awake 
And watched for my unworthy sake : 
For your most comfortable hand 
That led me through the uneven land: 
For all the story-books you read : 
For all the pains you comforted: 
For all you pitied, all you bore, 
In sad and happy days of yore : — 
My second Mother, my first Wife, 
The angel of my infant life — 
From the sick child, now well and old, 
Take, nurse, the little book you hold ! 

And grant it. Heaven, that all who read 
May find as dear a nurse at need. 
And every child who lists my rhyme. 
In the bright, fireside, nursery clime. 
May hear it in as kind a voice 
As made my childish days rejoice! 

R. L. 8, 



[15] 




A CHILD'S 

g71RdT:n: 




r VERSES 



TO ANY READER 

As FROM the house your mother sees 
You playing round the garden trees, 
So you may see, if you will look 
Through the windows of this book, 
Another child, far, far away. 
And in another garden play. 
But do not think you can at all, 

[ 17 ] 



By knocking on the window, call 
That child to hear you. He intent 
Is all on his play-business bent. 
He does not hear; he will not look. 
Nor yet be lured out of this book. 
For, long ago, the truth to say, 
He has grown up and gone away. 
And it is but a child of air 
That lingers in the garden there. 



[18] 




[20] 




WHOLE DUTY OF CHILDREI^ 

A CHILD should always say what's true 
And speak when he is spoken to, 
And behave mannerly at table ; 
At least as far as he is able. 



[21] 




A THOUGHT 

It is very nice to think 
The world is full of meat and drink. 
With little children saying grace 
In every Christian kind of place. 



[22] 




[23] 




When I am grown to man's 

estate 
I shall be very proud and great, 
And tell the other girls and 



meddle with my toys 




[24] 




TIME TO RISE 



A BiEDiE with a yellow bill 
Hopped upon the window sill, 
Cocked his shining eye and said: 
Aint you 'shamed^ you sleepy-head!'' 



CL 



[ 25 ] 



TTIE 8\JW8 TRAVELS 

The sun is not a-bed, when I 

At night upon my pillow lie; 

Still round the earth his way he takes. 

And morning after morning makes. 

While here at home^ in shining day, 
We round the sunny garden play, 
Each little Indian sleepy-head 
Is being kissed and put to bed. 

And when at eve I rise from tea, 
Day dawns beyond the Atlantic Sea; 
And all the children in the West 
Are getting up and being dressed. 



[26] 



SYSTEM 

Every night my prayers I say. 
And get my dinner every day; 
And every day tliat Pve been good, 
I get an orange after food. 

The child that is not clean and neat, 
With lots of toys and things to eat, 
He is a naughty child, I'm sure — 
Or else his dear papa is poor. 




[27] 




AT THE SEASIDE 

"When^ T was down beside the sea 
A wooden spade they gave to me 
To dig the sandy shore. 

My holes were empty like a cup. 
In every hole the sea came np, 
Till it could come no more. 

[2S] 




Chief of our aunts — not only I, 

But all your dozen of nurse- 
lings cry — 

Wliat did the other children 
do? 

And ivhat ivere childhood, 
wanting you ? 



[29] 




[30] 




RAIIf 



The rain is raining all around, 
It falls on field and tree, 

It rains on the umbrellas here^ 
And on the ships at sea. 



[31] 




smamQ 

Of speckled eggs the birdie sings 
And nests among the trees; 

The sailor sings of ropes and things 
In ships upon the seas. 

The children sing in far Japan^ 
The children sing in Spain; 

The organ with the organ man 
Is singing in the rain. 



[32j 




THE SWING 

How do you like to go up in a swing, 

Up in the air so blue? 
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing 

Ever a child can do ! 

Up in the air and over the wall, 

Till I can see so wide. 
Rivers and trees and cattle and all 

Over the countryside — 

Till I look down on the garden green, 
Down on the roof so brown — 

Up in the air I go flying again. 
Up in the air and down ! 

[33] 




A GOOD BOY 

I WOKE before the morning, I was happy 

all the day, 
I never said an ugly word, but smiled and 

stuck to play. 

And now at last the sun is going down 

behind the wood, 
And I am very happy, for I know that I've 

been good. 

My bed is waiting, cool and fresh, with linen 

smooth and fair, 
And I must off to sleepsin-by, and not 

forget my prayer. 

[34] 



I know that, till to-morrow I shall see the 

sun arise, 
'No ugly dream shall fright my mind, no 

ugly sight my eyes. 

But slumber hold me tightly till I waken in 

the dawn, 
And hear the thrushes singing in the lilacs 

round the lawn. 



[ -^'5 ] 



GOOD AND BAD CHILDREN 

Childeen^j you are very little, 
And your bones are very brittle; 
If you would grow great and stately, 
You must try to walk sedately. 

You must still be bright and quiet, 
And content with simple diet; 
And remain, through all bewildering, 
Innocent and honest children. 

Happy hearts and happy faces, 
Happy play in grassy places — 
That was how, in ancient ages, 
Children grew to kings and sages. 

But the unkind and the unruly. 
And the sort who eat unduly. 
They must never hope for glory — 
Theirs is quite a diiferent story! 

[36] 



Cruel children^ crying babies, 
All grow up as geese and gabies, 
Hated, as their age increases, 
By their nephews and their nieces. 




[37] 



THE UNSEEW PLAYMATE 

VYhein^ children are playing alone on the 

green, 
In comes the playmate that never was seen. 
When children are happy and lonely and 

good, 
The Friend of the Children comes out of the 

wood. 

Nobody heard him and nobody saw, 
His is a picture you never could draw, 
But he's sure to be present, abroad or at 

home, 
When children are happy and playing alone. 

He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass, 
He sings when you tinkle the musical glass; 
Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell 

why. 
The Friend of the Children is sure to be by! 

[38] 



He loves to be little, he hates to be big, 
'Tis he that inhabits the caves that you dig; 
'Tis he when you play with your soldiers of 

tin 
That sides with the Frenchmen and never 

can win. 

'Tis he, when at night you go off to your 

bed, 
Bids you go to your sleep and not trouble 

your head; 
For wherever they're lying, in cupboard or 

shelf, 
'Tis he will take care of your playthings 

himself! 



[39] 




I HAVE a little shadow that goes 

in and out with me^ 
And what can be the use of him 

is more than I can see. 
He is very, very like 

me from the 

heels up to 

the head; 

And I see him jump before me, when I jump 
into my bed. 

The funniest thing about him is the way he 

likes to grow — 
ISTot at all like proper children, which is 

always very slow; 
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an 

india-rubber ball, 
And he sometimes gets so little that there's 

none of him at all. 

[ 40 ] 



He hasn't got a notion of how children ought 

to play. 
And can only make a fool of me in every sort 

of way. 
He stays so close beside me, he's a coward 

you can see; 
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that 

shadow sticks to me ! 

One morning^ very early, before the sun 

was up, 
I rose and found the shining dew on every 

buttercup; 
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant 

sleepyhead, 
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast 

asleep in bed. 



[41] 



MY TREASURES 

These nuts, that I keep in the back of the 

nest, 
Where all my lead soldiers are lying at rest, 
Were gathered in autumn by nursie and me 
In a wood with a well by the side of the sea. 

This whistle was made (and how clearly it 

sounds!) 
By the side of a field at the end of the 

grounds. 
Of a branch of a plane, with a knife of my 

own — 
It was nursie who made it, and nursie alone! 

The stone, with the white and the yellow 

and gray, 
We discovered I cannot tell how far away; 

[42] 



And I carried it back although weary and 

coldj 
For though father denies it, I'm sure it is 

gold. 

But of all my treasures the last is the king, 
For there's very few children possess such 

a thing; 
And that is a chisel, both handle and blade, 
Which a man who was really a carpenter 

made. 



[43] 




Dow^ by a shining water well 
I found a very little dell, 

ISTo higher than my head. 
The heather and the gorse about 
In summer bloom were coming out, 

Some yellow and some red. 

I called the little pool a sea; 
The little hills were big to me ; 

For I am very small. 
I made a boat, I made a town, 
I searched the caverns up and down. 

And named them one and all. 

[44] 



And all about was mine^ I said, 
The little sparrows overhead, 

The little minnows too. 
This was the world and I was king; 
For me the bees came by to sing, 

For me the swallows flew. 

I played there were no deeper seas. 
Nor any wider plains than these, 

JN^or other kings than me. 
At last I heard my mother call 
Out from the house at evenfall. 

To call me home to tea. 

And I must rise and leave my dell. 
And leave my dimpled water well, 

And leave my heather blooms. 
Alas! and as my home I neared, 
How very big my nurse appeared. 

How great and cool the rooms ! 



[45] 




BLOCK CITY 

What are you able to build with your 

blocks? 
Castles and palaces, temples and docks. 
Rain may keep raining, and others go roam, 
But I can be happy and building at home. 

Let the sofa be mountains, the carpet be sea, 
There I'll establish a city for me: 
A kirk and a mill and a palace beside. 
And a harbour as well where my vessels 
may ride. 

[46] 



Great is the palace with pillar and wall, 
A sort of a tower on the top of it all, 
And steps coming down in an orderly way 
To where my toy vessels lie safe in the bay. 

This one is sailing and that one is moored : 
Hark to the song of the sailors on board! 
And see on the steps of my palace, the kings 
Coming and going with presents and things ! 

Now^ I have done with it, down let it go ! 
And all in a moment the town is laid low. 
Block upon block lying scattered and free. 
What is there left of my town by the sea ? 

Yet as I saw it, I see it again, 

The kirk and the palace, the ships and the 

men, 
And as long as I live and where'er I may be, 
I'll always remember my town by the sea. 



[47] 




THE HAYLOFT 

Through all the pleasant meadow- side 
The grass grew shoulder-high, 

Till the shining scythes went far and wide 
And cut it down to dry. 

These green and sweetly smelling crops 

They led in waggons home ; 
And they piled them here in mountain tops 

For mountaineers to roam. 

[48] 



Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty-lN'aiL 
Mount Eagle and Mount High ; — 

The mice that in these mountains dwell, 
1^0 happier are than I ! 

what a joy to clamber there, 

what a place for play, 
With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air, 

The happy hills of hay ! 




[49] 




NEST EGGS 

BiEDS all the sunny clay 
Flutter and quarrel 

Here in the arbour-like 
Tent of the laurel. 

Here in the fork 

The brown nest is seated; 
Four little blue eggs 

The mother keeps heated. 

[50] 



While we stand watching her, 

Staring like gabies, 
Safe in each egg are the 

Bird's little babies. 

Soon the frail eggs they shall 
Chip, and upspringing 

Make all the April woods 
Merry with singing. 

Younger than we are, 
children, and frailer. 

Soon in blue air they'll be. 
Singer and sailor. 

We, so much older. 
Taller and stronger, 

We shall look down on the 
Birdies no longer. 

They shall go flying 
With musical speeches 

High overhead in the 
Tops of the beeches. 

[51] 



In spite of our wisdom 
And sensible talking, 

We on our feet must go 
Plodding and walking. 




[52] 




AUTUMN FIRES 

Ijs^ the other gardens 
And all up the vale. 

From the autumn bon- 
fires 
See the smoke trail! 

Pleasant summer over 
And all the summer 
flowers, 
The red fire blazes, 
^^^^^ The grey smoke 
towers. 



Sing a song of seasons! 

Something bright in all! 
Flowers in the summer, 

Fires in the fall ! 



[53] 




THE FLOWERS 

All the names I know from nurse : 
Gardener's garters^ Shepherd's purse, 
Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock, 
And the Lady Hollyhock. 

Fairy places, fairy things. 

Fairy woods where the wild bee wings, 

Tiny trees for tiny dames — 

These must all be fairy names ! 

Tiny woods below whose boughs 
Shady fairies weave a house; 
Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme. 
Where the braver fairies climb ! 

[54] 



Fair are grown-up people's trees. 
But the fairest woods are these, 
Where, if I were not so tall, 
I should live for good and all. 




[55] 




THE GARDENER 

The gardener does not love to talk, 
He makes me keep the gravel walk; 
And when he puts his tools away, 
He locks the door and takes the key. 

Away behind the currant row 
Where no one else but cook may go, 
Ear in the plots, I see him dig 
Old and serious, brown and big. 

[ 56 ] 



He digs the flowers, green, red, and blue, 
Nor wishes to be spoken to. 
He digs the flowers and cuts the hay, 
And never seems to want to play. 

Silly gardener! summer goes, 
And winter comes with pinching toes. 
When in the garden bare and brown 
You must lay your barrow down. 

Well now, and while the summer stays. 
To profit by these garden days, 
how much wiser you would be 
To play at Indian wars wdtli me! 



[57] 




The friendly cow all red and white, 
I love with all my heart: 

[58] 



She gives me cream with all her might, 
To eat with apple-tart. 

She wanders lowing here and there, 

And yet she cannot stray, 
All in the pleasant open air, 

The pleasant light of day; 

And blown by all the winds that pass 
And wet with all the showers. 

She walks among the meadow grass 
And eats the meadow flowers. 




[59] 




FAREWELL TO THE FARM 

The coach is at the door at last; 
The eager children, mounting fast 
And kissing hands, in chorus sing: 
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything! 

To house and garden, field and lawn. 
The meadow-gates we swang upon. 
To pump and stable, tree and swing, 
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything! 

And fare you well for evermore, 
ladder at the hayloft door, 

[60] 



hayloft where the cobwebs cling, 
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything! 

Crack goes the whip, and off we go ; 
The trees and houses smaller grow; 
Last, round the woody turn we swing: 
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything! 




[61] 



MARCHING SONG 

Bringi the comb and play upon it ! 

Marching, here we come! 
Willie cocks his highland bonnet, 

Johnnie beats the drum. 

Mary Jane commands the party, 

Peter leads the rear; 
Feet in time, alert and hearty. 

Each a Grenadier! 

All in the most martial manner 

Marching double-quick; 
While the napkin like a banner 

Waves upon the stick! 

Here's enough of fame and pillage. 

Great commander Jane ! 
Now that we've been round the village. 

Let's go home again. 

[62] 



A GOOD PLAY 

We built a ship upon the stairs 
All made of the back-bedroom chairs. 
And filled it full of sofa pillows 
To go a-sailing on the billows. 

We took a saw and several nails, 
And water in the nursery pails; 
And Tom said, "Let us also take 
An apple and a slice of cake''; — 
Which was enough for Tom and me 
To go a-sailing on, till tea. 

We sailed along for days and days, 
And had the very best of plays; 
But Tom fell out and hurt his knee, 
So there was no one left but me. 



[63] 



BED m SUMMER 

In wi^'ter I get up at night 
And dress by yellow candle-light. 
In summer, quite the other way, 
I have to go to bed by day. 

I have to go to bed and see 
The birds still hopping on the tree. 
Or hear the grown-up people's feet, 
Still going past me in the street. 

And does it not seem hard to you. 
When all the sky is clear and blue. 
And I should like so much to play. 
To have to go to bed by day? 



[64] 








Boac 



My bed is like a little boat; 

IN'urse helps me in when I embark ; 
She girds me in my sailor's coat 

And starts me in the dark. 

At night I go on board and say 

Good-night to all my friends on shore ; 

I shut my eyes and sail away 
And see and hear no more. 



[65] 



And sometimes things to bed I take. 

As prudent sailors have to do ; 
Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake, 

Perhaps a toy or two. 

All night across the dark we steer ; 

But when the day returns at last, 
Safe in my room, beside the pier, 

I find my vessel fast. 



Wv 
^N^. 



.9 




[66] 



THE LAJfD OF NOD 

From breakfast on through all the day 
At home among my friends I stay, 
But every night I go abroad 
Afar into the land of ]N"od. 

All by myself I have to go, 

With none to tell me what to do — 

All alone beside the streams 

And up the mountain-sides of dreams. 

The strangest things are there for me, 
Both things to eat and things to see, 
And many frightening sights abroad 
Till morning in the land of Wod. 

Try as I like to find the way, 
I never can get back by day, 
Nor can remember plain and clear 
The curious music that I hear. 

[67] 



YOUI^G T^IGHT THOUGHT 

All ^igiit long and every night, 
When my mama puts out the light, 
T see the people marching by, 
As plain as day, before my eye. 

Armies and emperors and kings, 
All carrying different kinds of things, 
And marching in so grand a way, 
You never saw the like by day. 

So fine a show was never seen 
At the great circus on the green ; 
For every kind of beast and man 
Is marching in that caravan. 

At first they move a little slow, 
But still the faster on they go, 
And still beside them close I keep 
Until we reach the town of Sleep. 

[68] 




THE LAMPLIGHTER 

My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left 

the sky; 
It's time to take the window to see Leerie 

going by; 
For every night at tea-time and before you 

take your seat, 
With lantern and with ladder he comes 

posting up the street. 

Now Tom would be a driver and Maria go 

to sea. 
And my papa's a banker and as rich as he 

can be; 

[69] 



But I, when I am stronger and can choose 

what I'm to do, 
Leerie, I'll go round at night and light the 

lamps with you ! 

For we are very lucky, with a lamp before 

the door, 
And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so 

many more; 
And oh! before you hurry by with ladder 

and with light, 
Leerie, see a little child and nod to him 

to-night ! 



[70 1 




ESCAPE AT BEDTIME 



The lights from the parlour and kitchen 
shone out 
Through the blinds and the windows and 
bars ; 
And high overhead and all moving about. 

There were thousands of millions of stars. 
There ne'er were such thousands of leaves 
on a tree, 
Nor of people in church or the Park, 
As the crowds of the stars that looked down 
upon me, 
And that glittered and winked in the dark. 

[71] 



The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, 
and allj 
And the star of the sailor, and Mars, 
These shone in the sky, and the pail by the 
wall 
Would be half full of water and stars. 
They saw me at last, and they chased me 
with cries. 
And they soon had me packed into bed; 
But the glory kept shining and bright in my 
eyes. 
And the stars going round in my head. 



[72 1 




THE MOON 

The moon has a face like the clock in the 

hall; • 
She shines on thieves on the garden wall, 
On streets and fields and harbour quays, 
And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees. 

The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse, 
The howling dog by the door of the house, 
The bat that lies in bed at noon. 
All love to be out by the light of the moon. 

But all of the things that belong to the day 
Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way; 
And flowers and children close their eyes 
Till up in the morning the sun shall arise. 

[73] 



SUMMER SUN 

Gkeat is the sun, and wide he goes 
Through empty heaven without repose; 
And in the blue and glowing days 
More thick than rain he showers his rays. 

Though closer still the blinds we pull 
To keep the shady parlour cool. 
Yet he will find a chink or two 
To slip his golden fingers through. 

The dusty attic spider-clad 
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad; 
And through the broken edge of tiles 
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles. 

Meantime his golden face around 
He bares to all the garden ground, 
And sheds a warm and glittering look 
Among the ivy's inmost nook. 

[74] 



Above the hills, along the blue, 
Round the bright air with footing true. 
To please the child, to paint the rose, 
The gardener of the World, he goes. 




[75] 




THE WIND 

I SAW yon toss the kites on high 
And blow the birds about the sky; 
And all around I heard you pass, 
Like ladies' skirts across the grass- 
wind, a-blowing all day long, 
wind, that sings so loud a song 

I saw the different things you did. 
But always you yourself you hid. 
I felt you push, I heard you call, 
I could not see yourself at all — 
wind, a-blowing all day long, 
wind, that sings so loud a song 



[76] 



you that are so strong and cold, 
blower, are you young or old? 
Are you a beast of field and tree, 
Or just a stronger child than me? 
wind, a-blowing all day long, 
wind, that sings so loud a song! 




["] 



WINDY MGHTS 

WiiEJS^EVER the moon and stars are set, 

Whenever the wind is high, 
All night long in the dark and wet, 

A man goes riding by. 
Late in the night when the fires are out, 
Why does he gallop and gallop about? 

Whenever the trees are crying aloud, 
And ships are tossed at sea. 

By, on the highway, low and loud, 
By at the gallop goes he. 

By at the gallop he goes, and then 

By he comes back at the gallop again. 



[78] 



ARMIES m THE FIRE 

The lamps now glitter down the street; 
Faintly sound the falling feet; 
And the blue even slowly falls 
About the garden trees and walls. 

I^ow in the falling of the gloom 
The red fire paints the empty room: 
And warmly on the roof it looks, 
And flickers on the backs of books. 

Armies march by tower and spire 
Of cities blazingj in the fire; — 
Till as I gaze with staring eyes, 
The armies fade, the lustre dies. 

Then once again the glow returns; 
Again the phantom city burns; 
And down the red-hot valley, lo! 
The phantom armies marching go ! 

[79] 



Blinking embers, tell me true 
Where are those armies marching to, 
And what the burning city is 
That crumbles in your furnaces! 




[SO] 




PICTURE-BOOKS IN 
WINTER 

Summer fading, winter cornea, 
Frosty mornings, tingling 

thum bs, 
Window robins, winter rooks, 
And the picture story-books. 

Water now is turned to stone 
Nurse and I can walk upon ; 
Still we find the flowing brooks 
In the picture story-books. 

All the pretty things put by, 
Wait upon the children's eye, 
Sheep and shepherds, trees and 

crooks. 
In the picture story-books. 

We may see how all things are 
Seas and cities, near and far, 
And the flying fairies' looks, 
In the picture story-books. 

How am I to sing your praise, 
Happy chimney-corner days. 
Sitting safe in nursery nooks, 
Reading picture story-books ? 



[81] 



WII^TER-TIMB 

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, 
A frostjj fiery sleepy-head; 
Blinks but an hour or two; and then, 
A blood-red orange, sets again. 

Before the stars have left the skies, 
At morning in the dark I rise; 
And shivering in my nakedness, 
By the cold candle, bathe and dress. 

Close by the jolly fire I sit 
To warm my frozen bones a bit; 
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore 
The colder countries round the door. 

When to go out, my nurse doth wrap 
Me in my comforter and cap; 
The cold wind burns my face, and blows 
Its frosty pepper up my nose. 

[ 82 ] 



Black are my steps on silver sod; 
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad; 
And tree and house, and hill and lake, 
Are frosted like a wedding-cake. 




[85] 



THE LA:P^D of STORY-BOOKS 

At EYEisTii^a when the lamp is lit, 
Around tlie lire my parents sit; 
They sit at home and talk and sing, 
And do not play at anything. 

Now, with my little gun, I crawl 
All in the dark along the wall. 
And follow I'ound the forest track 
Away behind the sofa back. 

There in the night, where none can spy, 
All in my hunter's camp I lie. 
And play at books that I have read 
Till it is time to go to bed. 

These are the hills, these are the woods, 
These are my starry solitudes; 
And there the river by whose brink 
The roaring lions come to drink. 

[86] 



I see the others far away 
As if in flrelit camp they lay, 
And I, like to an Indian scout, 
Around their party prowled about. 

So, when my nurse comes in for me. 
Home I return across the sea, 
And go to bed with backward looks 
At my dear land of Story-books. 




LS7] 



KEEPSAKE MILL 

Oyer the borders^ a sin without pardon, 
Breaking the branches and crawling below, 

Out through the breach in the wall of the 
garden, 
Down by the banks of the river, we go. 

Here is the mill with the humming of thunder, 
Here is the weir with the wonder of foam, 
Here is the sluice with the race running 
under — 



Marvellous places, though handy to home! 

Sounds of the village grow stiller and stiller, 
Stiller the note of the birds on the hill; 

Dusty and dim are the eyes of the miller. 
Deaf are his ears with the moil of the 
mill. 

Years may go by, and the wheel in the 
river 
Wheel as it wheels for us, children, to-day, 

[88] 



Wheel and keep roaring and foaming for 
ever 
Long after all of the boys are away. 

Home from the Indies and home from the 
ocean, 
Heroes and soldiers we all shall come 
home; 
Still we shall find the old mill wheel in 
motion, 
Turning and churning that river to foam. 

You with the bean that I gave when we 
quarrelled, 
I with your marble of Saturday last, 
Honoured and old and all gaily apparelled, 
Here we shall meet and remember the 
past. 



[89] 



FOREIGI^ LANDS 

Up ixto the clieiTy tree 

Who should climb but little me ! 

I held the trunk with both my hands 

And looked abroad on foreign lands. 

I saw the next door garden lie, 
Adorned with flowers, before my eye, 
And many pleasant places more 
That I had never seen before. 

I saw the dimpling river pass 
And be the sky's blue looking-glass; 
The dusty roads go up and down 
With people tramping in to town. 

If I could find a higher tree 
Farther and farther I should see, 
To where the grown-up river slips 
Into the sea among the ships, 

[90] 



To where the roads on either hand 
Lead onward into fairy-land, 
Where all the children dine at five, 
And all the playthings come alive. 




[ 93 ] 




LOOKING-GLASS RIVER 

Smooth it glides upon its travel, 
Here a wimple, there a gleam — 
the clean gravel ! 
the smooth stream! 

Sailing blossoms, silver fishes, 
Paven pools as clear as air — 
How a child wishes 
To live down there! 

We can see our coloured faces 
Floating on the shaken pool 
Down in cool places 
Dim and very cool ; 

Till a wind or water wrinkle. 

Dipping marten, plumping trout. 
Spreads in a twinkle 
And blots all out. 

See the rings pursue each other; 
All below grows black as night. 
Just as if mother 
Had blown out the light! 



Patience, children, just a minute- 
See the spreading circles die; 
The stream and all in it 
Will clear by-and-by. 

[94] 



FOREIGI^ CHILDREI^ 

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, 

Little frosty Eskimo, 

Little Turk or Japanee, 

Oh! don't you wish that you were me? 

You have seen the scarlet trees 
And the lions over seas ; 
You have eaten ostrich eggs, 
And turned the turtles off their legs. 

Such a life is very fine, 
But it's not so nice as mine: 
You must often, as you trod, 
Have wearied not to be abroad. 

You have curious things to eat, 
I am fed on proper meat ; 
You must dwell beyond the foam. 
But I am safe and live at home. 

[95] 



Little Incliaiij Sioux or Crow, 

Little frosty Eskimo, 

Little Turk or Japanee, 

Oil! don't you wish that you were me? 




>49> , ^ '' f IQ st-^ 



iyj)^ — Si : 



[ 06 



THE LAls^D OF COUNTERPANE 

Whejn" I was sick and lay a-bed, 
I had two pillows at my head, 
And all my toys beside me lay 
To keep me happy all the day. 

And sometimes for an hour or so 
I watched my leaden soldiers go. 
With different uniforms and drills, 
Among the bed-clothes, through the hills; 

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets 
All up and down among the sheets; 
Or brought my trees and houses out. 
And planted cities all about. 

I was the giant great and still 
That sits upon the pillow-hill. 
And sees before him, dale and plain. 
The pleasant land of counterpane. 

[97] 



MY SHIP AT^D I 

it's I that am the captain of a tidy little 
ship, 
Of a ship that goes a-sailing on the pond; 
And my ship it keeps a-turning all around 

and all about; 
But when I'm a little older, I shall find the 
secret out 
How to send my vessel sailing on beyond. 

For I mean to grow as little as the dolly at 
the helm, 
And the dolly I intend to come alive ; 
And with him beside to help me, it's a-sailing 

I shall go. 
It's a-sailing on the water, when the jolly 
breezes blow 
And the vessel goes a divie-divie-dive. 

[ 98 ] 



it's then you'll see me sailing through the 
rushes and the reeds, 
And you'll hear the water singing at the 
prow; 
For beside the dolly sailor, I'm to voyage 

and explore, 
To land upon the island where no dolly was 
before, 
And to fire the penny cannon in the bow. 




[99] 



WHERE GO THE BOATS? 

Dark brown is the river, 

Golden is the sand. 
It flows along for ever, 

With trees on either hand. 

Green leaves a-floating, 

Castles of the foam, 
Boats of mine a-boating — 

Where will all come home? 

On goes the river 

And out past the mill, 

Away down the valley, 
Away down the hill. 

Away down the river, 

A hundred miles or more. 

Other little children 

Shall bring my boats ashore. 

: [100] 



PIRATE STORY 

TiiEEE of US afloat in the meadow by the 
swing, 
Three of us aboard in the basket on the lea. 
Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the 
spring, 
And waves are on the meadow like the 
waves there are at sea. 

Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're 
afloat. 
Wary of the weather and steering by a star? 
Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat. 
To Providence, or Babylon, or ofi* to 
Malabar? 

Hi! but here's a squadron a-rowing on the 
sea — 
Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a 
roar ! 

[ 101 ] 



Quick, and we'll escape them, they're as mad 
as they can be, 
The wicket is the harbour and the garden 
is the shore. 




[102] 




HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS 

Dear Uncle Jim, this garden ground 
That now yon smoke your pipe around, 
Has seen immortal actions done 
And valiant battles lost and won. 

Here we had best on tip-toe tread, 
While I for safety march ahead, 
For this is that enchanted ground 
Where all who loiter slumber sound. 

Here is the sea, here is the sand. 
Here is simple Shepherd's Land, 

L 103 ] 



Here are the fairy hollyhocks^ 
And there are Ali Baba's rocks. 

But yonder, see ! apart and high, 
Frozen Siberia lies; where I, 
With Robert Bruce and William Tell. 
Was bound by an enchanter's spell. 




[104] 




[ Fi^orvia 



R^lLW^y CARRl^Q e 



Faster than fairies, faster than witches, 
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches; 
And charging along like troops in a battle 
All through the meadows the horses and 

cattle: 
All of the sights of the hill and the plain 
Fly as thick as driving rain ; 
And ever again, in the wink of an eye, 
Painted stations whistle by. 

Here is a child who clambers and scrambles, 
All by himself and gathering brambles; 

[105] 



Here is a tramp who stands and gazes; 
And there is the green for stringing the 

daisies! 
Here is a cart run away in the road 
Lumping along with man and load; 
And here is a mill, and there is a river: 
Each a glimpse and gone for ever ! 




[106] 



TRAVEL 

I snorLD like to rise and go 

Where the golden apples grow; — 

Where below another sky 

Parrot islands anchored lie, 

And, watched by cockatoos and goats, 

Lonely Crusoes building boats; — 

Where in sunshine reaching out 

Eastern cities, miles about. 

Are with mosque and minaret 

Among sandy gardens set. 

And the rich goods from near and far 

Hang for sale in the bazaar; — 

Where the Great Wall round China goes, 

And on one side the desert blows. 

And with bell and voice and drum. 

Cities on the other hum; — 

[ 107 ] 



Where are forests, hot as fire, 
Wide as England, tall as a spire, 
Full of apes and cocoa-nuts 
And the negro hunters' huts; — 
Where the knotty crocodile 
Lies and blinks in the Nile, 
And the red flamingo flies 
Hunting fish before his eyes ; — 
Where in jungles, near and far, 
Man-devouring tigers are. 
Lying close and giving ear 
Lest the hunt be drawing near, 
Or a comer-by be seen 
Swinging in a palanquin ; — 
Where among the desert sands 
Some deserted city stands, 
All its children, sweep and prince. 
Grown to manhood ages since, 
Not a foot in street or house, 
Not a stir of child or mouse. 
And when kindly falls the night. 
In all the town no spark of light. 

[108] 



There I'll come when I'm a man 
With a camel caravan; 
Light a fire in the gloom 
Of some dusty dining-room. 
See the pictures on the walls, 
Heroes, fights, and festivals ; 
And in a corner find the toys 
Of the old Egyptian boys. 




[109] 



THE LITTLE LAND 

Whek at home alone I sit 

And am very tired of it, 

I have just to shut my eyes 

To go sailing through the skies — 

To go sailing far away 

To the pleasant Land of Play; 

To the fairy land afar 

Where the Little People are; 

Where the clover-tops are trees, 

And the rain-pools are the seas, 

And the leaves, like little ships. 

Sail about on tiny trips; 

And above the daisy tree 

Through the grasses. 
High overhead the Bumble Bee 

Hums and passes. 

[110] 



In that forest to and fro 

I can wander, I can go; 

See the spider and the fly, 

And the ants go marching by, 

Carrying parcels with their feet 

Down the green and grassy street. 

I can in the sorrel sit 

Where the ladybird alit. 

I can climb the jointed grass 

And on high 
See the greater swallows pass 

In the sky, 
And the round sun rolling by 
Heeding no such things as I. 

Through that forest I can pass 
Till, as in a looking-glass. 
Humming fly and daisy tree 
And my tiny self I see. 
Painted very clear and neat 
On the rain-pool at my feet. 
Should a leaflet come to land 

[112] 



Drifting near to where I stand, 
Straight I'll board that tiny boat 
Round the rain-pool sea to float. 

Little thoughtful creatures sit 
On the grassy coasts of it; 
Little things with lovely eyes 
See me sailing with surprise. 
Some are clad in armour green — 
(These have sure to battle been!) — 
Some are pied with ev'ry hue, 
Black and crimson, gold and bine; 
Some have wings and swift are gone ;- 
But they all look kindly on. 

When my eyes I once again 
Open, and see all things plain : 
High bare walls, great bare floor; 
Great big knobs on drawer and door ; 
Great big people perched on chairs, 
Stitching tucks and mending tears, 
Each a hill that I could climb, 

[ 113 ] 



And talking nonsense all the time- 

dear me, 

That I could be 
A sailor on the rain-pool sea, 
A climber in the clover tree, 
And just come back, a sleepy-head. 
Late at night to go to bed. 




[114] 



THE DUMB SOLDIER 

WiiE^ the grass was closely mowiij 
Walking on the lawn alone, 
In the turf a hole I found 
And hid a soldier underground. 

Spring and daisies came apace; 
Grasses hide my hiding place; 
Grasses run like a green sea 
O'er the lawn up to my knee. 

Under grass alone he lies, 
Looking up with leaden eyes, 
Scarlet coat and pointed gun, 
To the stars and to the sun. 

When the grass is ripe like grain. 
When the scythe is stoned again, 
When the lawn is shaven clear. 
Then my hole shall reappear. 

[115] 



I shall find hinij never fear, 
I shall find my grenadier; 
But for all that's gone and come, 
I shall find my soldier dumb. 

He has lived, a little thing, 
In the grassy woods of spring; 
Done, if he could tell me true, 
Just as I should like to do. 

He has seen the starry hours 
And the springing of the flowers; 
And the fairy things that pass 
In the forests of the grass. 

In the silence he has heard 
Talking bee and ladybird 
And the butterfly has flown 
O'er him as he lay alone. 

ISTot a word will he disclose, 
]N"ot a word of all he knows. 
I must lay him on the shelf. 
And make up the tale myself 

[116] 



NIGHT AND DAY 

When^ the golden day is done, 
Through the closing portal, 

Child and garden, flower and sun, 
Vanish all things mortal. 

As the blinding shadows fall, 

As the rays diminish, 
Under evening's cloak, they all 

Roll away and vanish. 

Garden darkened, daisy shut. 
Child in bed, they slumber — 

Glow-worm in the highway rut. 
Mice among the lumber. 

In the darkness houses shine. 
Parents move with candles; 

Till on all, the night divine 
Turns the bedroom handles. 

[117] 



Till at last the day begins 

In the east a-breaking, 
In the hedges and the whins 

Sleeping birds a-waking. 

In the darkness shapes of things, 
Houses, trees, and hedges, 

Clearer grow; and sparrow's wings 
Beat on window ledges. 

These shall wake the yawning maid; 

She the door shall open — 
Finding dew on garden glade 

And the morning broken. 

There my garden grows again 

Green and rosy painted. 
As at eve behind the pane 

From my eyes it fainted. 

Just as it was shut away. 

Toy-like, in the even, 
Here I see it glow with day 

Under glowing heaven. 

r lis 1 



[118] 



Every path and every plot, 

Every bush of roses, 
Every bhie forget-me-not 

Where the dew reposes, 

^'Up!'' they cry, "the day is come 
On the smiling valleys: 

We have beat the morning drum; 
Playmate, join your allies!'' 




[119] 




Is^ORTHWEST PASSAGE 

I GOOD-^IGIIT 

WiiE^ the bright lamp is carried in, 
The sunless hours again begin; 
O'er all without, in field and lane, 
The haunted night returns again. 

Now we behold the embers flee 
About the firelit hearth; and see 
Our faces painted as we pass, 
Like pictures, on the window-glass. 

[ 120 ] 



Must we to bed indeed? Well then, 
Let us arise and go like men, 
And face with an undaunted tread 
The long black passage up to bed. 

Farewell, brother, sister, sire! 
pleasant party round the lire ! 
The songs you sing, the tales you tell. 
Till far to-morrow, fare ye well! 

II SHADOW MAECH 

All round the house is the jet-black night; 

It stares through the window-pane; 
It crawls in the corners, hiding from the 
light, 

And it moves with the moving flame. 

Now my little heart goes a-beating like a 
drum, 
With the breath of Bogie in my hair, 
And all round the candle the crooked 
shadows come, 
And go marching along up the stair. 

[ 121 ] 



The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of 
the lamp, 
The shadow of the child that goes to bed — 
All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, 
tramp, tramp. 
With the black night overhead. 

Ill IN POET 

Last, to the chamber where I lie 
My fearful footsteps patter nigh. 
And come from out the cold and gloom 
Into my warm and cheerful room. 

There, safe arrived, we turn about 
To keep the coming shadows out. 
And close the happy door at last 
On all the perils that we past. 

Then, when mamma goes by to bed. 
She shall come in with tip-toe tread, 
And see me lying warm and fast 
And in the land of ]N"od at last. 

[ 122 ] 



APPENDIX 

VOCABULARY AND EXPLANATORY NOTES 



VOCABULARY 

Key: The pronunciation here indicated and the symbols used are 
those given in Webster's Collegiate Dictionary (1908) ; thus: 

a as in ale. u as in use. 

a as in senate. u as in U7iite. 

a as in am. u as in rude. 

a as in ah. - ii as in up. 

a as in ask. .u as in urri. 
a as in final. 

a as in awe. ^ ^^ ^^ P%- 

e as in eve. oo as in food. 

e as in defy. ^^ as in wool. 

e as in end. ^]^ as ."i out. 

e as in her. ^^ as m oil. 

e as in ab' sent. . ^ . 

g hard as m go. 

I as in hind. 3 for g in grem. 

i as in hit. , ^ ^^^arp as m this. 

ch as in chair. 

o as in 6o<:/e. hw for wh in 1/;/^^ 

o as in ohlige. ng as in sing. 

6 as in order. n as in ink. 

6 as in orfcL th as in then. 

abroad (a-brad') : (1) away from home; far away; (2) in the 

open air. 
action (ak'shiin): an act, a deed. 
adorned (adornd'): made beautiful. 
adventure (ad-ven'tur) : to go in search of adventures. 
afloat (a-flotO : floating in a boat. 
alert (a-lerf): wide-awake. 

[125] 



APPENDIX 

Ali Baba (a'le ba'ba): a character in the "Arabian Nights." 
allies (properly, al-liz', but here accented on the first syllable for 

the sake of the rhyme): (1) friends; (2) those united to us 

by treaty. 
ancient (an'shent) ages: olden times. 
apace (a-pas'): quickly, soon. 
apparreiied (ap-par'reld): dressed. 
arrant (ar'rant): shameless. 

Babylon (bab'y-lun): an ancient eastern city, now in ruins. 

balusters (bal'us-terz): the stair-rail. 

barrow (bar'ro): wheel-barrow. 

bazaar (ba-zarO^ in eastern lands a market-place or collection 

of shops. 
bewild'ring (be-wil'drmg): confusion, excitement. 
billow (bil'16): a big wave. 
blink (blink): to look with half -shut eyes. 
Bogie (bo'gy)* a hobgoblin, a ghost. 
bound (bound): held a prisoner. 
bramble (bram'b'l): a prickly shrub. 
breach (brech): a break. 

brink (brink): edge of a steep place, bank of a river. 
brittle (bri't'l): easily broken. 
broom (broom): a plant having large yellow flowers, from the 

twigs of which brooms and brushes are made. 
by (bi): near, close at hand. 

caravan (kar'a-van): a company of people traveling together. 
cavern (kav'ern): a large cave. 
clamber (klam'ber): to climb. 
cock (kok): (1) to wink; (2) to put on one side. 
cockatoo (kok-a-too')' a parrot-like bird. 
counterpane (koun'ter-pan): a covering for a bed. 
crocodile (krok'o-dil): a huge reptile. 
crook (krd&k): the staff of a shepherd. 

[ 126 ] 



APPENDIX 

Crow (kro): a member of the Crow tribe of Indians. 
curious (ku'ri-iis): strange. 

dale (dal): a valley. 
dell (del): a hollow, a little ravine. 
deserted Tde-zert'ed): forsaken. 
diet (dl-et): food. 

diminish (di-min'ish): to become smaller, to grow less. 
dimpled (dim-pl'd): covered with ripples. 
dimpling (dim'plmg): breaking into ripples. 
double-quick (diib"l-kwik): the fastest step in marching next 
to the run. 

embark (em-bark'): to go on board a boat for a voyage. 
embers (em'berz): hot coals in the ashes. 
enchanted (en-chant'ed): under a spell. 
enchanter (en-chant'er): one who charms by magic. 
establish (es-tab'lish): to build up. 
estate (es-taf): state of being. 

festival (fes'ti-val): a feast, a celebration. 

fi relit (fir'lit): lighted up by the flames. 

flamingo (fla-mm'go): a bird with long legs and webbed feet, 
usually red in color. 

foreign (for 'in): (1) distant; (2) strange?- (3) belonging to an- 
other country. 

free (fre): separated from the rest. 

fright (frit): to alarm. 

gaby (ga'by): a simpleton. 
gird (gerd): to clothe, to wrap. 
glade (glad): an open passage through a wood, 
glitter (glit'ter): to sparkle. 

glory (glo'ry): (D honor, fame; (2) the brightness and wonder- 
ful beauty. 
glowing (glo'ing): shining. 

gorse (gors): a thorny evergreen shrub with yellow flowers. 

L 127 ] 



APPENDIX 

grace (gras): a blessing- asked before a meal. 
grenadier (gren-a-der'): a member of a special regiment. 

handy (han'dy): near. 

haunted (hant'ed): filled with ghosts. 

hearty (hart'y): bold, eager. 

heather (hetli'er): a low shrub with tiny evergreen leaves and 

pink flowers. 
helm dielm): that part of a ship by which the steering is done. 
highland bonnet (hi'land bon'netj: a cap worn by Scotch 

Highlanders. 

increase (m-kresO- to become greater. 
inmost (m'most): deepest within. 

jungle (jun'g'l): a dense growth of brushwood. 

kirk (kerk): a church. 

knotty (not'ty): covered with knots or bumps. 

laurel (la'rel): an evergreen shrub. 

lea (le): a grassy field. 

leaden (led"n): made of lead. 

loiter (loi'ter): to be slow in moving, to lag behind. 

low (lo): to make the calling sound of cows. 

lustre (liis'ter): brightness. 

Malabar (mal-a-barO^ a district of India. 

man-devouring (de-vour'ing): man-eating. 

mannerly (man'ner-ly): politely. 

marten (mar'ten): a bird. 

martial (miir'shal): warlike, brave. 

marvellous (mar'vel-lus): wonderful. 

minaret (min'a-ret): a tall, slender tower belonging to a 

mosque. 
moil (moil): noisy working. 
moored (moor'd): anchored. 

[128] 



APPENDIX 

mortal (mor'tal): subject to death. 
mosque vmosk): a Mohammedan chm'ch. 

nook (nd6k): a corner, a seckided retreat. 
notion (no'shim): klea. 

palanquin (pal-an-ken'): an enclosed carriage borne on the 
shoulders of men by means of two projectmg- poles. 

paven (pa'v'n): paved. 

peril (per'il): dang-er. 

phantom (fan'tum) : 'ghostly. 

pied (pid): colored. 

pillage (piklaj): goods taken from an enemy by force. 

plane (plan): a kind of tree. 

plod (plod): to move along slowly. 

plot (plot): a small piece of ground; a bed of flowers or vegeta- 
bles in a garden. 

portal (por'tal): a door or gate. 

post (post): to hurry. 

prow (prou): the fore part of a vessel, the bow. 

prudent (pru'dent): careful, sensible. 

pursue (pur-su'): to chase, to follow. 

quay (ke): a wharf at which vessels are loaded and unloaded. 

race (ras): the current of water that turns a mill-wheel. 

rear (rer): that part of an army which comes last. 

reeds (redz): tall, coarse grass. 

repose (re-poz'): rest. 

retiring (re-tlr'ing) room: private room; retreat. 

rook (rdt)k): a bird resembling a crow. 

rushes (riish'ez): marsh-growing plants. 

sage (saj): a wise man. 

scythe (sitii): a long, curving blade, made fast to a long handle, 
with which grass or grain is cut. 

[ 120 ] 



APPENDIX 

sedately (se-dat'ly): quietly, in a dignified way. 

Sioux (soo): a member of the Sioux tribe of Indians. 

sire (sir): father. 

sieepsin-by (slep'sm-bi): the land of sleep. 

sluice (slus): a water-gate. 

smock (smok): a blouse. 

solitude (s6ri-tud) : a lonely place. 

sorrel (sor'rel): a plant. 

squadron (skwod'run): a part of a fleet of vessels. 

stately (stat'ly): grand. 

stoned (ston'd): sharpened and ready for use. 

stray (stra): to wander away. 

sweep (swep): one who sweeps or cleans chimneys. 

thyme (tim): a plant. 

tile (til): a piece of burnt clay or broad thin brick used to cover 

houses. 
troops (troops): soldiers. 
trundle (trun'd'l): to roll along. 
turf (turf): grass. 

undaunted (iin-dant'ed): bold, fearless, 
unduly (un-du'ly): too much. 

vale (val): a valley. 

valiant (val'yaiit): bravely fought. 

vanish (van'ish): to go out of sight. 

wary (wa'ry): watchful. 
weir (wer): a dam. 
well (wel): a spring. 

whin (hwin) : gorse, a thorny evergreen shrub with yellow flowers. 
wicket (wik'et): a small gate. 
wide (wid): far. 
wimple (wim'p'l): a ripple. 
without (with-ouf): outside, out-of-doors. 

[130] 



EXPLANATORY NOTES 

Alison Cunningham (P. 15): the faithful nurse and loving 
friend and playmate of Robert Louis Stevenson during 
his childhood. 

Cinief of Our Aunts (P, 29): Miss Jane Balfour, eldest sister 
of Stevenson's mother; for many years her father's house- 
keeper, and a devoted foster-mother to all the many 
nephews and nieces who visited at the Manse. 

Dog, The (P. 72): the name of a constellation, or group of fixed 
stars. 

Great Wall, The (P. 107): a wall seventeen hundred miles 
long, built in the fourteenth century, between Mongolia 
and China proper — the mightiest work of defense in the 
world. Most of it is now in a state of decay. The parts 
of it which are kept in repair for customs purposes are 
thirty feet high and twenty-one feet thick, and faced with 
great blocks of granite. 

Hunter, The (P. 72): a group of stars sometimes called the 
Archer. 

Plough, The (P. 72): a group of seven stars known also as 
the Dipper. 

Star of the sailor (P. 72): the North Star. 



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